Page 52 of All the way home

For what feels like the hundredth time, Zach scans the area for his carry-on. The problem is, there are a thousand suitcases. Possibly more. Zach can’t quite wrap his head around how many people are here.

A group of children have struck up a game of tag, darting in and around the grown-ups, occasionally weaving under legs and tripping up passersby. Every so often, a parent shouts for them to knock it off, but the request seems to go unheard or at least unheeded.

One child isn’t running. She’s leaning against the wall, watching the others, palms flat against the drywall.

Actually, she doesn’t appear to be a part of the group at all. With a flash of recognition, Zach sucks in a breath. He’d seen this girl at security—he recognizes her hair with the purple clips, and the way her yellow shirt glows against her dark skin. A glance around does not reveal her mother and the baby anywhere nearby.

Zach nudges Kieran. “Think she’s okay? I saw her earlier with a parent, but she’s alone now.”

Apparently, that’s all Kieran needs. He’s off like a shot, approaching like he had Lorraine—every inch of him easy, gentle intention. He sidles up next to the girl, hands in his pockets. “Hey, you.”

Her glare is almost comically loaded with suspicion. Dark-brown eyes squint up at him, taking in his shoes and his coat.

The thing is, lost little girls are a lot easier than livid old women, and they take a very different skill set. Which is very handy, in this case. Zach spent his summer dealing with kids at the bowling alley. He squats down next to her on her other side, getting below her eye level. “Hey, kiddo. Where’s your grown-up?”

Desperately, he hopes she’s going to point somewhere, but as he’d been expecting, she just lifts a shoulder.

“Are you lost?”

As though resigned to it, she nods, mouth a tight pinch.

“What’s your name?” Zach holds out a hand. “I’m Zach.”

“I’m not s’posed to talk to strangers.” Solemnly, she lifts her chin and does not take his hand. “I’m s’posed to wait right where I am. That’s so that I’ll be finded sooner.”

“That’s good advice,” Zach agrees, letting his hand drop. Then, when she keeps her lips buttoned shut, he shifts his strategy. “What if we don’t have to talk at all? We could play a game. I’ll ask you a question, and all you have to do is nod yes or no. And you don’t have to tell me anything you don’t want to.”

Watching with keen interest, Kieran leans a shoulder against the wall and stays quiet.

After a moment, the girl nods.

“Do you remember where you last saw your grown-up?”

“My mommy,” she says, and then claps both her hands over her mouth, but the twinkle in her eye makes Zach think her alarm only comes from accidentally breaking the rules of the game, not from fear. Then she nods.

“Was that close to where we are now?”

She points at the ground under her pink and purple shoes.

“Right here? Okay. And then she was gone?”

She nods solemnly, twists bouncing.

And then he’s out of yes-or-no questions.

“What does she look like? Will you tell me?” Zach shields his eyes from the bright fluorescents as he twists to sweep the terminal. He’s pretty sure he would remember, but if she’s willing to talk—

“Her hair is curly like mine,” the girl says. “But orange like carrots. And she’s got white skin with freckles all over. And she has Maeve, too.”

“Who’s Maeve?”

“My sister.”

Voice low, Kieran says, “If we know where they’re headed, we could check those gates.”

Nodding, Zach turns back to the girl. “Where are you flying to?”

Apparently, stranger-danger has faded. “We’re going out to see Dillan at school. But it’s a surprise, because he couldn’t get a holiday from work.”